


Corduroy

by orphan_account



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - Fandom
Genre: Children's Literature, Fluff, M/M, Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-29 03:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One Christmas eve, an old man threads and sews two stuffed hedgehogs made of satin and corduroy, one blue and one black and red. When one is given a heart that is disarrayed, Sonic tries to fix him with love. Oneshot, Sonadow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corduroy

There once was a man who was poor monetarily, but he was rich in heart. And he worked at a shop he created, where he made toys for children. He enjoyed the job, seeing the children’s smiling faces every time he made their own creations come to the light, come from their heart. The man was very old, his hands arthritic and like the twigs of trees, but he still worked, he still wanted to spread happiness to the children who liked to come to the shop and order a toy from their parents. And he never was paid very much, as he tried to make his toys affordable to everyone. As for the needy children? He gave them away for free.

It was Christmas Eve, the sun clambering down the sky in a rich hue of orange. It was the same shade of the man’s cigar, as he set to work threading and needling this new toy he was excited about to experiment with. The snow was plentiful, a rich luxurious coat of opalescent white, and it made the man work even harder. He loved the snow and he always loved this time of year. It was when children were the happiest.

He took a puff of his cigar, and a thick blue stream of smoke was breathed from his mouth. He already had an idea for a toy he would give to this child, no, two toys, as he thought this toy would need a friend. He put the needles inside the felt, as the sun inched closer to the workshop, and he soon set to work threading and sewing, making his toy come to life, with its blue fur that shined a little in the light, near the snow, and he put inside a maze of red thread inside of it, to create veins and arteries, to create a toy that had a real, moving heart.

He created a tail, he created quills, he created corduroy red sneakers, and he created green shiny marbled eyes, and a black corduroy nose, and soft, velvety ears. It was a toy that would appeal to the child, and the other children he would be with, his friends. In fact, the toy might even make him friends he thought, as there was no other toy quite like this before! He was entirely blue, his chest, arms, and muzzle cream, and he seemed to glow in the dark corners of his workshop, as he couldn’t afford the electricity most of the time, but this hedgehog seemed to be able to create light for him. His hands were made of satin white gloves that were much like the snow.

To finish his project, he opened a little of his chest, and feeling his cotton filling and the red streams of thread, he inserted a velvety soft heart, one that he felt he could put it in the center of his veins and arteries. Then he stitched it back up, but still the toy was motionless, staring into the ceiling, with a fixed smile on its face. He thought something wasn’t quite right. The toy was supposed to have a little magic inside of it. But he soon learned in order for its magic to work, he had to make the heart start beating, with an act of love.

He then kissed the top of his nose, and instantly, he was alive. His heart was beating. Thump thump thump.  
He looked around his workshop. He saw an old man with hands that were withered away, but he still continued to work, and he still had a smile on his face every time he made things like him. The toy didn’t even question his existence or why he was put on the planet. He just knew he wanted to make people smile. And he smiled back at the man, a big wide, jubilant grin.

Now it was time to create the other toy, his other experiment. He set to work, putting the needles in its flat body; making it the same material the other one was made. Except his quills didn’t shine. They were completely dingy and black. But he was still soft, with his satin ears and his corduroy nose and shoes. His eyes, although they were red, still shined in the workshop. As soon as the old man was done threading and sewing the felt creature, he opened up its chest full of white soft fur and added in a blue vial inside of him. It was the vial that he kept ever since his daughter cried. The vial of tears of a child.

Then he stitched it up.

And at once, he came alive. His heart didn’t need a start. His eyes peered curiously at the man and the shop, with a hard to wipe away frown on his muzzle. And at once, he questioned why he was here, why the old man made him, and he hated his existence, as he saw it all pointless, especially with all the pain he felt inside. Something was clawing him, wanting to tear out and make him a mess of cotton, and he dared it, because if he was dead, then there was no more misery. No more pain.

He put together the blue hedgehog and the black and red hedgehog, and he made them hold hands. One of the gloved hands was brimming with warmth, as he tried to give the black one a smile. But one was cold, as cold as the arctic, and he only scoffed and continued to pity the old man who wasn’t dead yet, because death was freedom.

And the old man said, “Now I will leave you two alone and look around the shop and explore. Meet the other toys, get to know them, and especially get to know each other, and the boy you will soon meet tomorrow. And blue one; you mustn’t let the other one hurt anyone else. It is your duty to be a guardian, to the other toys and him.”

And soon, their god, the old man, left the shop, and he turned on a small lamp, only a small part of the workshop showered in faint yellow light. And there the blue hedgehog and the black hedgehog were left, with this entire world at their hands and feet.

The blue one stood up, with its shiny hands wanting to reach towards the other, wanting to hug, wanting to play with the black hedgehog, but it pushed it away. It simply wanted to be by itself, wondering over why it was here, and why his own lord was an old man who gave him so much misery and gave him a cold heart. The blue hedgehog reached again, stretching as much as its threads could, its red string of bones, but he simply backed away without looking at him, staring at the door that held the winter wonderland outside. It also stared at the needles the old man had inside a pincushion, wondering what would happen if she shoved him inside of them, wondering if he could pull out his heart.

The blue hedgehog simply knew there was no making him budge. He would probably get to him later. He decided to walk to the shelves, looking with his shiny eyes. It was very dark in the workshop, but he thought he could still see around, as his heart was a lantern, and it illuminated a small path for him to travel. He smiled, a smile so large it nearly spanned across his entire face, and he explored.

He saw something that was brown and silver, looking like a bundle of sticks tied together to create a pathway. He stepped on it, touching the cold metal, feeling a new sensation in his fingers, when he felt another: rumbling, and he heard a sound in his ears, something that was coming here, made of steam and metal, much like the bundle of sticks.

He moved out of the way, knowing if he stood he would be hit (though he didn’t know what pain felt like, but he already had an inkling that it probably was an unpleasant feeling. His heart would tell him so.), and he looked at the long black train that rode constantly in a circle, with some of its parts shining like gold and foil, with the engine that he thought had something that smoked like the old man, as he could see something white and with many wispy hands rush out of its pipes.

Of course, this led him into being curious, as to what kind of toy this was supposed to be. It had wheels made of steel, and it carried many boxes along its back, traveling along this circle, going nowhere with its packages. He thought that maybe he could have a little fun, riding on the tail, riding it as it went to a nowhere land, and he quickly jumped on it, experiencing the joy and feel of the wind and how it felt when he went fast. And with his stitched mouth that suddenly gaped apart and opened, he said, “Can you go any faster? I want to feel the wisps more. The puffs of this invisible thing that touches my face. Go faster!”

The train blew more steam, more of the smoky ghostly hands rushing out of the pipe, and it stormed across the tracks, fulfilling his wish.

The wind felt nice as it breezed before him. He liked the sensation of going this quick, to be much like the breath of air itself, becoming faster than a lightning bolt, and he wished to go faster, to feel more of this thing that he knew possibly the old man called “speed”, and the train sighed in the wispy smoke, telling him that it could not move any faster, and it wanted to stop.

And with his smooth heart, he understood this, and told him in a brief glimpse of his glass eyes that he was merely curious, as he was just created a mere few moments ago. And he smiled and winked, to show him that he was glad to be alive, and he liked feeling these new sensations. The old man truly gave him a gift, and he appreciated it more and more, every few seconds of his life.

And the train stopped, blasting more hot air, and it asked in a way that only Sonic could understood, of who was the black and red hedgehog, and why was he sitting there, not enjoying this breath of life he was given.

“I don’t know. He’s been grumpy ever since he was born. I want to show him that it’s good to have life, that you don’t need to question everything and just go with the flow, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen to me. He just broods there, not even saying hello to anyone.”

The train puffed, and said that it was the moodiest toy it ever seen. Not even the jack-in-the-box that was only a few feet away was moodier than him.

The jack-in-the-box heard, and said, “Hey, it’s called depression! Obviously you don’t seem to understand the way I feel, or the way that hedgehog feels either. How about you just leave us alone and let us think! Sometimes you don’t even need to rush into things like you don’t have a brain you dimwit.”

The train coughed up more smoke. Jack, he’s merely just trying to cheer you guys up. No toy should ever be sad or moody. Else the old man might get rid of you. You know that.

“If he was going to get rid of me, then how come I’ve been here for so long, without a single child to play with me? I’ve just been gathering dust for so long that I breathe dust, and that’s probably not good for my lungs, especially for your smoke that you keep breathing out because you can’t close your pipehole!”

“Wait, the old man might get rid of you if you’re a sad toy? Why does he do it? All the toys here should be given a chance, not thrown away like they’re trash,” Sonic said.

The train puffed up some more. Because he doesn’t want a child to ever be with a toy that cannot take part in his joys, his sorrows, and his pain, and make the child feel any worse for experiencing the hardships that come with childhood. So he always tries to give them sympathetic toys, happy toys, like yourself. I don’t know why he made a toy that seems to not be happy. Sometimes the old man is strange, but maybe he has his reasons…

Sonic couldn’t remember anything about being made, except seeing the old man’s face when he was kissed on the nose. He saw him thread and create Shadow, and he inserted something inside of him that wasn’t a heart, but much like a bottle instead. However, he didn’t really take a good glance at seeing what was inside of it. He was just simply glad that he was given the breath of life. And he wished this toy, who he thought he would name “Shadow” (as he looked like a slinking shadow of himself), would be glad too. Because the breath of life was either not given to you, or it would soon be taken away from you, like what seemed to happen to some of these unhappy toys.

He walked back to him, still trying to keep a grin on his face (so much that it seemed to be permanently stitched), and as the dark one thought, he put his hand on him, and spoke again.

“I just wanted to let you know that even when things seem dark, there will always be someone out there that will care about you. I care about you.”  
“Shut up,” he said. “You don’t know anything I’ve been going through. You don’t know how the insides of my body feels like, always feeling like they’re going to decay while I’m still alive. You don’t know anything, so try to be on the safe side and stay away from me. All of these toys have a bitter existence, and so do you.”

The grin turned into a frown, as he tried to understand, tried to sense his pain underneath all that velvety fur. There was just something inside of him that made him hurt, made his blood vessels wracked, made everything tighten to the point of pain, and he just wanted to make it all go away. His heart began to tighten too, and he could feel it wrenching underneath his skin.

“I want to understand though. I want to make you feel better about being given away to a child. If you’re going to be always like this, then you’ll be taken away, did you know that? And I don’t want that to happen to you. You’re too beautiful of a toy to be thrown away. I see that you have a lot to offer to a child, and I want you to make them happy with me…”  
He stomped his soft feet, and growled.  
“I don’t need to make anyone happy! Especially when I, myself, cannot be happy! I was given this miserable existence like the rest of you, and sometimes I just want to go to that plush tomato that this horrible god has and tear myself open! Don’t you get it? Are you blind, are you deaf? I cannot ever make a child happy, especially when my heart is black, charred, broken, disarrayed. You can go on to that child, whoever he is, without me. I can just simply lay here and die, and just have the master rip me into pieces.”

The blue hedgehog wanted to tighten Shadow around his arms, to give him a warm embrace where he could feel what it was like to have a warm heart, to feel the joys in finding sympathy, to care, to love, and he wished he could make all that go away. The nightmares and terrors that this Shadow seemed to have when he laid on the ground, motionless, his red cat eyes always seeing the pain in everything. He didn’t need to be torn and hurt. He needed to be pieced together, to see the big picture, to see the art piece of life itself. It was abstract, much like a Picasso painting, but once you understood it, you grew to appreciate it.

He had to give something that would mend him, anything that could make him happy. And he thought he would try to look around the workshop, to find anyone who was wise, to hear the pain, the guttural screams of his heart.

And he walked onward, beyond the railroad tracks, beyond the grumpy Jack, beyond the regular shelves and beyond the sewing machine. He would find exactly what it would be to make him happy, to give him the gift of a child, and he would help him until the day his child grew up and no longer needed him.

—

As he talked to the other toys in the workshop, he found out about the action figures, who were often just put up on a shelf, and never interacted with again, and they felt very lonely, as the other action figures never wanted to talk to another, because they were in packages. He talked to the toys with the mean boys and girls, always frayed and torn apart, and he tried to find out if they could still be happy even if they were hurt, but they were soon thrown away by their moms and dads, and never spoke of again. So they were very sad, and they cried a lot. And the blue hedgehog hugged them, but they still couldn’t have their hurt taken away.

Then there were the jacks and marbles, who often fought and hit each other and called each other names and even cussed. He could never understand why they were so angry, but he thought it was because they were made with the rivalry children developed with each other, the battles they waged on the playground. They were very loud and many of the other toys told them to be quiet, but they still argued, and all Sonic could do was ignore them and let them settle their differences by themselves. Maybe one day they would come around he thought. Surely the fighting had to end, and there would be no more bickering as the children grew up and learned to settle their differences. But for now, they rattled with teasings and insults, and the blue hedgehog walked by, searching even further.

Then there were the toys that only caught the children’s interest for a little while, but then were soon long forgotten. Many robotic dogs lied across the shelves, barking and running towards the hedgehog, giving him a lick on their plastic tongues and wishing to play fetch and be pet by him, starved and crazed for his attention, but he knew the answer to Shadow’s heart would not be a pet, especially one that was so automatic, so interesting for the first few minutes, but were soon in the pile of the old man’s heap of toys the children didn’t want anymore. There were furry creatures too, their long wide ears and their long wide eyes peeking at him, then begging him to feed them and talking in a shrill voice that made the hedgehog’s soft ears ache, but still he marched on, and they were forgotten again, forgotten by both child and toys alike.

Soon, the blue hedgehog’s red shoes grew tired, and he sat on the edge of the shelf, kicking them in the air. He found nothing that would help Shadow’s poor mind, and he was sure he was at the end and at the final set of shelves. It seemed hopeless to him, to find a toy that had a lot of knowledge about the love of a child, no veterans from their hugs. He sighed, and he thought that maybe Shadow was just a soul that would never allow anyone to fix his heart, and he wished it wasn’t true, he wished it wasn’t so.

Something inside him, inside his red threads, told him that Shadow was a very special toy, and that he needed to save him, to make him happy for the child they were about to meet. And he couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. He would feel the loss was his fault, and that his heart would break and become sad and lonely too, if he was ever gone.

Suddenly, he felt someone pat his shoulder, and it was another stuffed being, except unlike the blue hedgehog, this furry creature was on four legs, and wasn’t robotic and had metal and gears and wires that were made of plastic, but had marbled brown eyes much like him, a soft velvet tongue, and a big plastic nose that was nearly torn off. The brown dog was nearly gray and matted everywhere on his body, and one of his ears was missing, a tuft of cotton sticking out of him. The blue hedgehog knew immediately that this dog was loved dearly by a child, who despite his injuries, he continued to love him, continued to sleep with him and be held close to his body, continued to be in his adventures, and was taken to so many places that he had mud on his fur. And with one look in his eyes, he could tell that there was great kindness in his soul, and that he wanted to help the blue one who wanted to save the other hedgehog, and he wagged his broken tail and he spoke, with a soft voice.

“Sometimes the way to someone’s heart is through your own. You must give this friend of yours so much love that he cannot bear it anymore, to feed him so much of your heart that it seems like he nearly gags. But this is okay, as toys with his problem need to be fed so much love, because while they drive you away, they’re actually hungry, and they need you to give them a great feast. Sometimes it is through so much love we can stand the pain and we live on, as love is a powerful thing, and I firmly believe it is inside each and every one of us. Especially you. You have a heart that is made of rich velvet that shines in the darkness. I believe you can make him well. I believe you can make him happy. Feed him, and you will realize he will feed you too.”

The blue hedgehog’s heart glowed, and it began to pump through his many wires of thread. And he pet the dog and hugged it, and it knew the feeling was mutual, a feeling he experienced a long time ago. And his heart, even if it had no wires inside of it, glowed too.

“Maybe tomorrow we can be as lucky as you,” he said, his voice turning soft too. “Maybe tomorrow Shadow will be lucky, and will get to feel what it’s like to be loved. And I will make sure to give him as much love as I can. He deserves it. He deserves everything, and so does his child.”

And soon the blue hedgehog returned to the lower shelves, to the train that ran constantly in a circle, to the grumpy jack-in-the-box who grumbled and muttered constantly under his breath, telling the others that he wanted them to shut up so he could get to sleep because he couldn’t sleep for so long, and to Shadow, who continued to lie under the warm lamplight, worrying, fretting over his future and his past. His heart continued to be in pain, as he thought he didn’t deserve anything, and that he was useless, worthless. No child should ever get to love this hedgehog he thought, because he would make the child question why he was born too, and why God was so cruel. He thought he was going to be as forgotten as the robotic dogs in the corner, who barked every once in a while, trying to get someone to listen to them, someone to get to play with them, but even their god, the old man, ignored them. And the same would happen to him. Even if he was just created, so long ago.

The blue hedgehog gazed at him, his eyes sparkling in the golden light, but from the dog’s encouragement, he knew what to do. He wanted Shadow to feel the joys of being loved by a child, to feel their warmth in their skin, to feel their heartbeats, to feel their laughter and to feel their bubbling voices and their flighty ideas and their innocence that would soon be wiped away in what seemed to be in as short as a few seconds. He took a deep breath, tapped the ground with his soft, ribbed shoes that were shiny and red with straps of gold attached to them, and he smiled, that smile he thought the old man gifted him with since he was created, and he leaned towards the black one, and he hugged him, the soft satin heart inside his felt fur beating so rapidly that he thought it would soon burst.

“Get away! Get away from me you disgusting cretin!” But the blue hedgehog ignored him, and soon, he felt warm, he felt the soft eaves of his heart, and even if he had so much blackness inside of him that he wanted the world to stop turning for him, he felt comforted, that someone seemed to care for him. But yet he thought the pain was thickening, that it was getting tighter around his chest, and he wanted to shed a tear, the blackness growing darker, deeper.

But he soon realized, as his insides were screaming inside and wanting to rot and fade away, that his body was nice to touch, the soft, velvety fur feeling warm under his. The blue hedgehog smiled, and he felt his hands that were as shiny as the snow outside, and he began to rub his back, to get rid of the dark that was inside him, to make sure none of his pain returned ever again. He shoved his hand closer inside of him, the black threads tightening around his fist, but he plunged in deeper inside, and he could feel the wretchedness that he contained, the crying and the anger and the rage and the screams of the abuse and turmoil that this creature inside of him held, and his hand felt heavier, harder to lift as he pulled out that thing that made him want to die, that thing that was glowing blue and black like a bruise.

He examined it, the bottle appearing as dark as the rest of the workshop, looking as if it absorbed all the light from the lamp above them. When the blue hedgehog remembered the time he was created, the time he was given life, he remembered that the old man sewed this vial inside Shadow. The blue hedgehog didn’t question anything since he was created, but he wondered why the old man gave such a hideous gift to him, something that would’ve made him cold and hateful to any child he was with.

He could hear the sorrow speaking to him in a hushed whisper, what sounded like a little girl begging him to find her love, because her mother and father couldn’t find it in their heart to love her. And he could remember exactly what the dog said as the little girl continued to cry: to feed them with love, until they felt they couldn’t take it anymore. And he wished he could do the same for that little girl, so long ago. It’s been probably years since she cried, and he wasn’t sure if she was happy or depressed today.

But all that mattered to him now, was to love his slinking shadow. To give him warmth on this cold winter’s night, in the workshop that had very little heat and no electricity to make it better. And he got closer, his smile emanating so brilliant, and he held him close, the red threads inside his body pumping so much love inside them, that he wanted to give it all to him. To the shadow that never had a single happy moment since he was alive. But he wanted to change that. He wanted to change everything about him.

And it felt so safe under his arms, with his innocent smile and with his heart that was pulsing through him. His eyes were half closed, lulled by the blue hedgehog’s kindness. He didn’t reject his attempts at making him happy now, and only stood and felt as he was nuzzled by the hedgehog’s head, the satin feeling so smooth under his chin. He could feel his heartbeat underneath him, pumping so rapidly as he moved his hand to his upper chest, and felt how the heart seemed to want to tie him with its loose tendrils and keep him under its red, shining arms. He remained standing with the blue hedgehog for a long time, as he liked this feeling of love, and he wanted to experience more of it.

The blue hedgehog grinned, his face full of glee that he knew the old man has always stitched in him, and he said, “I love you, Shadow. I love you much like the child is going to love you. I will remain here with you, until the stars move out of the sky, until the constellations are no more, until our god takes all of them and stitches them up, one by one, and he creates a toy that will appeal to any child, because he will have a heart that will always glow in the night, to keep him warm and contented. And I will always do that with you. I will always keep you by my side.”

And shortly after his speech, Shadow felt something wet, and brimming with his heart and soul, on his nose. The blue hedgehog leaned over, and kissed him on the nose, much like his creator did when he was born.

Shadow clutched at his heart. He could feel something beginning to form inside of him, developing and taking place inside of his chest much like an infant inside of its mother, and he could feel it being taking care of with his red wires. While he felt some pain, his mouth wincing at the sudden rebirth, but he could feel it glowing inside of him. A shiny, blue heart that was much like a sapphire, that made the entire workshop incandescent and burning brighter than the stars and the moon and even the blue hedgehog’s heart, and the other toys gazed in awe at him, as now the shadow was turning into light, turning into a star. And the blue hedgehog held onto him, the blue heart feeling hot and thinking nearly that he was going to burn, but still he remained near him, hugging him close, as the snow fell without a sound outside, as the streetlights soon were no longer gold but were shut off, as the blues of morning were beginning to rise in the sky.

The heart soon dimmed and was cooling as the sun began to turn its face towards the two hedgehogs. They could feel the warmth of its rays as it touched the workshop, and they had their hands clasped together, both their heart beats in tune with each other, and they lied together as the toys soon were hushed by the walking and gathering of people from the outside, and the blue hedgehog put his arms around his Shadow, and with a wide grin, they fell asleep, on that Christmas morning.

—

The old man returned, his bones sore from the duties of Christmas he had to attend to. But with him was his grandson, a boy named John, and he told him he had a surprise waiting for him, and that it was his Christmas gift from him.

He looked at the two hedgehogs that lied together with his old blue eyes, and he smiled. His experiment worked. He wanted to prove to himself that even with so much sorrow, so much hate, that love could conquer all, and he knew the blue hedgehog with his heart made of soft silky velvet would prevail. The black and red hedgehog seemed happy now, as he slept with him with a contented smile, and he knew if he could be loved by another toy, he could be loved by a child as well.

“These are your gifts, John. These two hedgehogs that are my pride and joy. You can give them a good name that will make them happy as you play and take care of them. The blue one is kind, and loves adventure and what the future holds. The black and red one looks to the past often, but he can understand that he is loved, by you, and the blue one too. They are yours, and maybe one day, you can give them to your child in the future, to appreciate them as well as you will.”

And the boy smiled, and he said he would name the blue one Sonic, and the black and red one Shadow, as he looked like the shadow of Sonic. But even the blue one could feel love for his own shadow. He felt love for all that life had to offer.

When both the hedgehogs arrived in the boy’s home, they felt a wave of warm air, and scents of what the boy called “turkey” in the oven. The boy showed both Sonic and Shadow to his mother, lifting them up in the air with pride, even the two hedgehogs feeling that pride themselves, but they remained tight on their lips.  
“They’re very cute. But I wonder why your grandfather gave you those toys. He makes so many of them you know, and he has a specific reason he gives one away to a child. Maybe they’ll help you in some way.”  
She held Sonic tenderly in her arms, the toy feeling warm in her grasp. The other one felt warm as well, but yet his fur was sleek under the light. She thought she could see something blue inside of him, but she merely thought of it as the holiday stress getting to her nerves. She had so much to do with this boy today, and the day wasn’t even half over…

“Come to the tree and get your presents, John. I think you’ll like what Santa has brought for you this year. Your father was just in the middle of unwrapping his present…”  
They both sat and watched as the boy tore through all his presents, but as the gift-giving soon turned to an end, the boy said that while he loved his mother’s gifts, he loved his grandpa’s the most. Because he admitted that he was a little cold (the heat probably not set high enough, but it never was as cold as that workshop, they thought), but the toys seemed to be like heating blankets, and he thought he could feel something beat in their felt flesh. And something glow too, but maybe the holiday stress was getting to him too? No, he was happy today, it couldn’t be. Today, he felt…loved. Much like Shadow, he thought. He realized that many people loved him on that Christmas day, including his mother, his father, and especially his grandfather, who gave him these wondrous gifts.

He played with both of the toys throughout the day as the sun was beginning to glow a shining red tangerine, and through his smiles and laughter Sonic and Shadow’s hearts grew bigger and brighter, brighter than the snow that fell under the street lamps. Shadow could feel the boy’s happiness, the sound of laughter he made from his throat, and while sometimes the past still made him hurt, he looked to the present often now, and realized he was gifted with the pleasures life had to offer. Especially this boy. Especially the one with blue satin, Sonic.

The stars tried to glow brighter than them, but they failed, and knew they met their matches, with the happiest toys that were ever given to a child. It was a record-breaking day for the grandfather’s long legacy.  
And as they lied in bed with the boy holding them close to his body, their hearts were night lights for him, one of them glowing a warm yellow, and another a sharp hue of blue.

And they thought, as they curled their hands with each other, gazing into each other’s glass eyes, that they couldn’t be happier.

They were loved. And they will continue to be loved, even if their shoes lose the shininess and softness of corduroy.


End file.
